we crowd around the accidentwe want to see the worstwe crowd around the accidentwe want to see what hurts

They're leaning in the corner.He's buried in a baggie.They say he's mischevious sometimesshe's prettyand her elbows are so pointythey're dangeroustalking in the locker roomhis nose bleeds so profusely.

But no one tell him, he's the star.But they watch like at the movies that he's famous for.

we crowd around the accidentwe want to see the worstwe crowd around the accidentwe want to see what hurts

two storiesabout to fallboasting at the swing setmarching down the hallshe yelled cause he upset her deskdon't yellhe's picking sideshe's hitching rides to school

His father left in winterhe's no one's sonif I can poke her with a pencilthen I can pop her with a gun

we crowd around the accidentwe want to see the worstwe crowd around the accidentwe want to see what hurts

We think, "I'm glad it wasn't me,"and turn up the TVand squeeze our eyes shutand leave a space to see.